


Stella's Home

by Chelonie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abandonment, Don’t copy to another site, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Squibs, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelonie/pseuds/Chelonie
Summary: At a home for unwanted children such as squibs and werewolves, Harry Potter is looking to solve a puzzle - who is Stella?





	Stella's Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheOnlyCeeCeeJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlyCeeCeeJ/gifts), [Writers_Den_Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Den_Discord/gifts).

Zach Smith hadn’t really seen Harry Potter since the day of the Battle four years ago, and he had to admit that the DADA Professor was looking good. He was still short, but he’d broadened in chest and shoulder. He had a few piercings in his ear and eyebrow, and a tattoo that moved around his neck. There were rumours that if anyone took unauthorised photos of him, the tattoo leapt onto his face to spell out a vulgar word and make the photo unprintable. Given the dearth of photos that had appeared of ‘The Saviour’ in the last four years, Zach suspected that rumour was true. 

They called Potter ‘The Saviour’, ‘The Man Who Won’, ‘The Slayer’, ‘The Boy Who Lived Twice’, ‘The Master of Death’ (Zach didn’t know what that one was about) and various other monikers that were each more ridiculous than the last. But Zach imagined he was probably the happiest to be called Professor Potter. He remembered their secret defense club, back in fifth year, and Potter had been a natural teacher then. Now the curse on the Defense position seemed to be broken with Voldemort’s death, because Potter had held the job for three years running. 

As usual, Potter rarely went anywhere without his sidekicks, Granger and Weasley. Suddenly his oldest and (he would never admit to any of his kids) his favourite child squealed and jumped up and down. “It’s Hermione Granger! She's writing the Werewolf Rights Bill! Can I go meet her, Papa?”

They were both looking at the trio through a security mirror in the drawing room that showed what guests were at the gate.

“I went to school with her. Come with me, Lacey, I’ll introduce you,” he said, and put out his hand to her.

“Oh no! Does my hair look okay?”

“You look beautiful, love.”

“Papa, you always say that!” Lacey huffed.

“Maybe you should believe me!”

When Zach and his sister Matilda had arrived at the newly acquired Malfoy Manor with the intention of creating a Children’s Home, there had been a pack of six feral werewolf children, left behind by Fenrir Greyback. They had managed to hide from the Ministry people who had confiscated the Manor, and even the curse breakers who had come in to clean the place up before putting it on the auction block. But when then-nine year old Lacey had realised they had children with them, she had understood that they might infect the new kids. So she had approached Zach, all alone, brave as a Gryffindor, and loyal as a Hufflepuff, to demand that he find a solution. He couldn’t help but fall in love with her. 

“Barrister Hermione Granger, this is my daughter, Lacey Smith,” Zach said, as they opened the gate. If she looked surprised that he was claiming a daughter that he was not biologically old enough to have fathered, she didn’t say anything.

“I’m a wolf!” Lacey said. “Barrister Granger, I’ve read everything about your Werewolf Rights Bill! Dad explains most of it to me that I can’t understand. I don’t read very well. I mean, I want to read better, I just didn’t get a chance until I got a Dad and -”

“Did you have any questions about it?” Granger asked. 

“Loads!” Lacey said. “I have them written down… will you still be here if I go and get my notebook?”

“We won’t be here, we’ll be in the drawing room, Lace,” Zach said. 

Meanwhile, Ron Weasley had drawn a crowd of children due to his red Auror robes. The kids at the home were used to law enforcement occasionally coming by with a child that needed a home for a few days or weeks, but that was almost never an Auror. The kids wanted to hear stories about catching Dark Witches and Wizards, and Weasley managed to produce one that Zach suspected was highly sanitised for little ears.

“Lo, Smith,” Potter said, after his sidekicks had spread out. 

“Potter,” Zach said. “What brings you here?”

“A couple of things,” Potter said, and when he rubbed the back of his head, Zach suddenly saw the fifteen year old Potter again. The one he’d crushed on, and so been purposefully rude to in order to try and get it out of his system. “First of all, I’ve been wanting to make a donation, but my vaults have been sealed ever since the, er… Let’s just say I’m _not_ allowed by the settlement that was just signed with the goblins to admit that Gringotts was _ever_ robbed, and leave it at that.”

“Blimey, Harry… that was _ true?! _” Zach said. Of all of the rumours of what Harry Potter had done during his Missing Year, the story of him robbing a bank on dragon back had seemed the least likely.

“Heh. Not anymore,” Harry said. “Anyway, I have access to my vaults again, and my godfather would be especially proud to support a home for Werewolves and Squibs -”

“Latents.” Zach said. “Squibs is an insulting word. We call them Latents.”

“Right. Latents. I’ll try and remember that,” Harry said. “So I brought a Gringotts certificate in the memory of Sirius Black.” Harry dug in a pocket and handed over a folded parchment. 

Zach unfolded it and his eyes nearly bugged out. “Ten thousand galleons?”

“Is it not enough?” Harry said. “Do you know I _still_ have trouble getting my head around money in the magical world.”

“Potter, this will keep us going for probably five years, if we get no other donations!”

“Oh. Well, good. Pester me in five years then,” Harry said. 

“Are you serious?”

Harry actually laughed. “No that was my godfather. And that was his favourite stupid joke. His entire life he told that joke. And believe me, the Black vaults can afford it, even after the goblin settlement.”

“This is… wow, thank you. On behalf of my kids, and Matilda’s kids, thank you,” Zach said.

“The second thing is this.” Potter dug in a different pocket and pulled out a plushie snail. It looked well loved, the sort of toy that a child carried around for years. It had a tag on it that said, in a child’s scrawl: _‘To Harry From Stella. Thank you for saving us all!’_ “Your place is called Stella’s Home. I want to know, who’s Stella?”

* * *

This question called for drinks, and so Zach poured firewhiskey for both of them, even though it was ten am.

“What your friend Weasley could probably tell you is that if a child disappears or is killed before their admittance to Hogwarts, it isn’t investigated by Law Enforcement unless the parents demand it. And of course most of the time, the parents will demand exactly that. Unless the parent is the culprit.”

Harry gulped the drink. He could see exactly where this was going. He remembered Neville’s Uncle Algie dropping him out of a window to prove he was magical. “So parents can dispose of unwanted children. Latents.” He saw another law in Hermione's future.

“Just so.” Zach said. “I have two sisters. My oldest sister is Matilda. She helped me rescue the Latents during the war, and now she's the Headmistress of the Home here. Our middle sister is Stella. She didn’t get a Hogwarts letter on her eleventh birthday, and on the morning after, which was Christmas morning, our parents told us she had drowned. Everything of hers had disappeared from her bedroom. We were not to speak of her again. I was five. I have hardly any memories of her. Just flashes. And eventually I came to believe that I had a sister that drowned on Christmas day. But Matilda remembered everything about her, and she brewed Veritaserum in her seventh year, and she learned the truth from my parents. They didn’t kill her. They abandoned her, and told her she could never come home and cast compulsion spells to make sure she couldn't try. Eleven years old. The same age as my Lacey”

“Oh Zach…” Harry said. 

“Matilda couldn’t find her. She’s been looking ever since. She terrified my parents into leaving the country. Then there was the war, and we were busy getting Latents _ out _of the magical world rather than bringing them back. The Carrows were boasting about extermination, and I was able to get word to Matilda. Most families are decent, and keep their Latents with them. So we found them, and warned them, and if they needed help getting out, then we helped them get to the muggle world, and we let them use our name.” Zach chuckled without mirth. “Did you know ‘Smith’ is the most common muggle surname in Britain? That’s why we haven’t been able to find Stella. But we used it to help the refugees hide.”

“Wow… that’s… amazing. _You’re_ amazing.” Harry thought about the year of their Camping Trip from Hell and how very non-heroic it seemed in comparison to everything that had been happening back in the magical world right under Voldemort’s non-nose.

Zach shook his head. “Nah. Anyone would have done it.”

“But you _did_.” Harry insisted. “Then you and your sister went further and made this home for them after the war.”

“Matilda promised all of them when they went into hiding that they would always be welcome back in the magical world. Some of them lost their families, but she wanted to keep that promise. And so do I. I’d rather that shit parents like ours drop off kids here than in the middle of nowhere. And there are a few magical children too, but they tend to be only here while law enforcement is trying to find their nearest relations, in the case of a tragedy, or if they are true orphans, they tend to find adoptive parents quickly. But our permanent residents are our Latents and the Weres.”

Harry turned the plushie snail over in his hand. “Do you know if this has anything to do with your sister?”

“I was too young. We’ll need to ask Matilda,” Zach said.

* * *

Matilda Smith, Headmistress of Stella’s Home, was on the terrace with Hermione and Lacey when Harry first met her. Her dark hair was cut chin length, and looked a little chewed on. Harry could see some marmalade glops on her robes. She was clearly a much more hands-on Headmistress than McGonagall had ever been in Harry’s memory. 

“Tilda, Harry has a question about Stella.”

Harry showed her the plushie snail, and Matilda put her hands to her mouth. “Oh Circe and Morgana, where did you get Daisy?”

Harry handed her the snail. “When I was a baby, I was placed with muggle relatives to hide me. Dumbledore must have thought too many owls flying in a muggle neighbourhood would have given me away, because there was an owl redirection ward placed so that all of the gifts and letters sent to the Boy-Who-Lived went to a Gringotts vault. I didn’t learn about it until this year.”

“She sent you her favourite toy. She was only seven. I didn’t know she did that,” Matilda said, with tears in her eyes. 

“Who’s Stella?” Hermione asked gently.

“Our Latent sister,” Matilda said. “Our parents abandoned her. I’ve been trying to find her for -”

“Drop that toy!” Hermione said. She summoned her otter patronus and send it for Ron, who came running in almost at once. “Ron, put that toy in a magic suppressing bag! It’s evidence in a Missing Persons case. Oh, it should work! As long as we didn't contaminate it too much!"

Ron took out a silk bag and tied up the snail plushie.

“What?” Matilda asked. “Just… what?”

“You said it was her favourite toy. She might have chewed on it, cried on it. There might be her hair on it, or even blood. And since it’s been in a Gringott’s vault, it’s been in stasis. My girlfriend works in the DMLE and she’ll have people who know the right rituals to track her. Hopefully. It’s… worth a try.” Hermione swallowed hard. “It might not work. You might not get the toy back.”

“Take it! Take it!” Matilda cried. “I want my sister!”

* * *

Sometime later, after Matilda had gone to the DMLE with Hermione, and returned, emotionally drained, Lacey was pouting.

“Miss Granger left before I could convince her to let me go to Hogwarts!”

“Did she say why you couldn’t?” Zach asked.

“She said _ she _ wanted me to go, but that the law wouldn’t pass if Hogwarts was in it. So she has to put that in a future law, after people are more used to wolves. But I’m eleven _ now! _”

“I know, honey. It’s not fair,” Zach said.

“It’s not fair!”

“But she did say I might be able to get a wand.”

“We’ll see,” Zach said. Because the law was that a child that wasn’t in Hogwarts could only have a wand if they were being tutored by someone with a Master’s in a wand subject. And while the school could afford to hire a tutor now, thanks to Potter’s generosity, he might have difficulty finding someone willing to tutor werewolf children.

“You say ‘we’ll see’ when you mean ‘No!” Lacey said. 

“I mean ‘we’ll see’, because you can’t get a wand unless you have the right kind of teacher. I’m not the right kind, and neither is Matilda.”

“Oh! Oh! I bet Mr Potter is the right kind! He’s a Professor at Hogwarts, right? So if he teaches here instead, then that has to be good enough!” Lacey said. Then with a sly smile and a sing-song voice. “And Miss Granger said he’s single!”

“We’ll. See!” Zach said firmly. Though there was a small part of him that warmed to hear that Potter was single, even if he was hearing it third-hand. 

“So? Ask him to dinner! That’s what grown-ups do, right?” Lacey said. “I’ll babysit the other kids.”

“You are not old enough to babysit the other kids, I don’t care that you took care of them before we moved in,” Zach said, almost a monotone, of an old old argument.

“Dear Mr Potter: You are very handsome and I think you should come teach here instead of Hogwarts. Please have dinner with me. Love, Zach”

“That’s enough out of you, Lace…”

* * *

The next day, Zach got an owl.

> Dear Zach,
> 
> Your kid is Gryffindor to the core. She has already sent me a letter telling me that you and I are to date and I am to leave my job at Hogwarts and teach her, and that if I'm nice enough to you, she'll consider letting me adopt her pack.
> 
> Your sister was more subtle, but she did let me know that you didn’t date anyone who didn’t love kids. All kids. So this is where I tell you I called off the wedding with Ginny Weasley two years ago because she didn’t want to have kids until her Quidditch career was over, and I want a lot of kids as soon as possible.
> 
> Hermione probably would have given me advice by now, except she is too busy with Susan trying to work out the correct rituals to locate your sister. I really really hope it works. I’m sure it will work. I’d never bet against Hermione.
> 
> Perhaps it's a little soon to be talking of adoption, but Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown are getting married on New Years at the Burrow. Would you like to go with me? 
> 
> Cheers,  
Harry

Zach wasn’t sure whether to throttle his kid or hug her, as he laughed, and wrote an acceptance. 

* * *

Stella Smith’s tiny Brighton flat was not decorated for either Christmas or her birthday. She didn’t celebrate the day she was abandoned. What she did was light two candles in her window, and say a prayer to the goddess for Matilda and Zacharias. _ Please be alive. Please be well. Please be happy. _

Maybe the new year would be the one when she’d finally be able to find them again. 

Maybe.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: Ginny Weasley is a professional athlete and Harry Potter works in elite law enforcement.  
Epilogue: They have three children.  
Epilogue: They have one aging house elf.  
Epilogue: The children call the house elf 'Mummy Kreacher'.  
Epilogue: They call Harry 'That guy'.  
Epilogue: They call Ginny 'Can we go to the next Quidditch game huh can we please please?'


End file.
